


The True Prize

by Homunculi



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, post Worlds 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 22:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homunculi/pseuds/Homunculi
Summary: Some random jerkz pwp. Set post Worlds 2019.
Relationships: Marcin "Jankos" Jankowski/Luka "PerkZ" Perković
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	The True Prize

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna post this anonymously but I thought that it was gonna be a lot worse than it ended up being. Every time I think I'm capable of writing true non-con, it ends up being implied con hahaha. Non con is my guilty pleasure to read, but I guess not to write. Anyways, this isn't edited and it's like WAAAYYYYY past my bedtime so perdóneme.

The atmosphere was anything but romantic in their Parisian hotel room. What else could be expected after taking such a hard loss. G2 just came closer than they ever had to winning the world championship. It slipped right through their grasp. Second place should’ve felt like a victory, but it almost felt worse, the taste of triumph grazing the tips of their tongues. 

There was nothing to celebrate that night. No clubbing, no partying, no alcohol. It wouldn’t go over well. If anything, it might’ve exacerbated the player’s already sunken moods. They threw in the towel and made the unanimous choice to isolate in their rooms and sleep off the regretful loss. Perkz and Jankos were sharing a suite that fateful trip. Many might have seen this as a blessing, considering their synergistic humor and close relationship, but in times of brooding their methods of coping couldn’t be more different. 

Jankos returned from his visit to pester Mikyx and Caps in their dorm down the hall. Perkz wasn’t in the mood to socialize, and had resigned himself to crawl straight into bed. The crisp sheet felt nice on his skin, but it did little to soothe how bitter he felt. He couldn’t place the blame all on himself, of course, but there was enough blame to go around. And his guilt couldn’t be denied as the captain. 

The jungler spied the AD carry on his side of the room, lounging in bed, flipping mindlessly through French television channels he undoubtedly couldn’t understand. He didn’t dare say anything to Perkz, he could sense the mood. Despite the fact that many perceived him as tactless, Jankos wasn’t an idiot, and he knew Luka well enough to read the room. He walked over to the adjoining part of the suite and sat on the sofa, pulling out his phone. He decided to video call some friends back in Poland, anything to distract himself and kill the time. 

At first, his brain wasn’t really perturbed by Jankos’s background noise. But as Marcin laughed and steadily raised his volume in the boisterous conversation, Perkz couldn’t block it out. He spoke even louder when he used his native language, which only added to Luka’s torment. The garbled French coming from the tv melded with the emphatic jungler’s voice in an ungodly mix that had the brunette reeling. He switched off the show angrily and got out of bed, stomping into the doorway to cast a dirty look at his teammate. Jankos saw him, his eyes widening slightly, and he excused himself from the call, apologizing before hanging up. 

“Jesus, man! If you’re gonna be so fucking loud go do it somewhere else,” he said, extremely annoyed.

Usually Perkz was passive aggressive, or even sarcastic. But this was the first time he had ever come at him without so much a warning. Jankos wasn’t sure how to react, but he certainly wasn’t going to let his colleague push him around like that. They all felt like shit. 

“I’m literally minding my business, Perkz. I’m sorry you’re fucking mad that you can’t go hide alone in a room somewhere and cry while you play sad Spanish guitar songs,” he rolled his eyes. 

His banter seemed to have struck a chord. Jankos was always very expressive and forthcoming, but Perkz was somehow more emotional. The issue was that he was prone to bottling it up, which usually led to everything overflowing, leaving a mess. However, Marcin quickly went back to scrolling through his contacts, determined not to let his roommate put him down any further. He re-dialed the video call and resumed chatting away like nothing ever happened.

The marksman stepped back in the doorway, visibly fuming. He frowned, stalking towards Jankos, who smirked up at him tauntingly, unwilling to end the call. Luka looked threatening, sure. But he never expected him to make good on it. He gaped at his friend as he snatched the phone from his hands, shutting it down and walking away with it. 

“What the fuck is your problem,” the jungler yelled.

He got off the couch and followed his teammate, dead set on getting his device back. The lanky blonde may have had a height advantage over his teammate, but Luka was agile and more physically fit. 

“Give it,” he demanded, trying to swipe it from the carry’s hands in vain.

“Take it from me,” he said with a cocky grin, “I bet you can’t. Just like you couldn’t take that baron in the last game.”

Jankos frowned and cursed under his breath in Polish, tackling Perkz onto the bed without mercy. For a moment, they were a wrestling tangle of limbs, no one really coming out on top. 

“Why...are you -  _ unf, _ ” Perkz tried to shrug him off with an elbow to the stomach, “being such a dick,” Jankos struggled to finish his sentence.

After a considerable amount of struggling, Luka was exhausted to the point where Marcin finally got the upperhand. He straddled the brunette’s hips, using most of his body weight to pin his arms above his head. The two of them were breathing heavily, still too angry to find the situation either awkward or funny whatsoever. 

“Give. it.” he repeated firmly, pressing a little more sharply into Luka’s wrists. 

“Then take it,” Perkz smirked, his eyes trailing downward. 

That’s when Jankos looked down and realized the ADC had tucked it into his waistband during their scuffle. The blonde was unamused, but he knew if he dared let go of Luka’s hands, there was no way he was getting his phone back so easily. With a degree of contempt, he grabbed Perkz’s wrists and pinned them harshly down at his sides. The brunette only raised a brow, barely putting up a struggle as he watched Jankos scoot down, careful to keep his legs securely on top of Luka’s, keeping him trapped. 

He bit back a gasp as the tip of Jankos’s nose brushed his lower stomach. The blonde knelt down and grabbed the corner of his phone with his teeth, yanking it free from the elastic of Perkz’s boxers. He turned his head, tossing it off the bed, free from the thieving clutches of his sly teammate. When Jankos glanced back down at the man pinned beneath him, he detected a slightly nervous look in his eyes. Perkz shifted uncomfortably, and that when Jankos noticed his friend’s precarious situation. It was plain to see, even hidden under the fabric of his shorts which the jungler always thought were too short, the ADC suddenly had a hard-on. 

“Well, well, well,” he smirked.

“That’s enough, Jankos. You got your phone. Get off,” Perkz replied, becoming flustered.

“Is it, though,” he teased, burying his face in the crook of Luka’s neck. 

The croatian shuddered as warm breath ghosted over his sensitive skin. He felt the jungler’s lips graze the side of his neck before teeth nibbled on his earlobe sensually. Perkz’s breath hitched, and he fought to push the blonde off of him. But Jankos only pushed his limbs back down onto the bed with more force. Marcin placed teasing kisses and bites along his collarbone, pulling back to lock eyes with him, but Luka pouted, defiantly turning his head to avoid his gaze, his cheeks heating up. 

Once again, the jungler didn’t dare let go of Perkz’s arms. After all, the marksman was undoubtedly stronger than him when it came to sheer muscle. So, he had to get creative. He scooted his hips up a bit, until they were perfectly level with Luka’s. He grinded his own growing erection against Perkz’s, earning a muted whimper from the brunette. Perkz felt himself melting into the pleasure, and everything in his body begged for his mind to let go, tempting him with sweet promises that surrendering to something for once might be nice. 

Jankos rutted against him again, creating more friction, and Perkz groaned, not willing to fight his desire anymore. He craned his neck, catching Jankos’s lips with his own, taking him by surprise. The Pole eased up, releasing his grip on Luka’s arms. The marksmen greedily tangled his fingers in the blonde’s hair, deepening the kiss, while his other arm fumbled with his own zipper. 

Marcin took the opportunity to slide his hand up under Luka’s shirt, rubbing his chest before pinching one of his nipples playfully. The brunette arched his back at the touch, their hips brushing together once more, testing the jungler’s patience. Luka already had his own shorts undone, but Jankos wasn’t so hasty. He pushed up the fabric of Perkz’s top and teased him with his mouth, planting kisses and bites all over his chest. 

The ADC impatiently pulled down the blonde’s sweatpants and boxers, setting his throbbing erection free. Jankos did Perkz the favor of helping him out of his underwear, too. Moving back up to kiss him while he began to stroke both of their cocks with his hand. The sensation set Perkz on fire. It felt like none of this would ever be enough. He never wanted anything, no anyone, so badly in his life. Their kiss was unbridled, their tongues and teeth clashing - only ceasing temporarily to gasp for air. Luka moaned shamelessly into his mouth as Jankos teased him, squeezing his dick ever so slightly. 

“Jankos,” he gasped, “please.”

Neither of them knew much about having sex with another man, but the principle seemed more or less the same. 

“I uh...I didn’t think this far ahead,” the jungler admitted, pausing to look around the room for some sort of lubricant.

“Here,” Luka said, digging a bottle of lotion out of his suitcase.

“But shouldn’t you…”

“Just do it. I want you now,” the brunette demanded.

He got on all fours and stroked himself, his ass on perfect display for Jankos as he slicked himself up with the moisturizer. Perkz looked back at him coyly, smirking as he watched the blonde line his hips up, the tip pressing against his tight entrance. He pushed in, only about an inch or so, trying his best to be gentle with Luka. Maybe it was his self-destructive mood, or perhaps he wanted to be punished for throwing Worlds. Either way, Perkz welcomed the pain, even craved it. 

“Ah...fff- More,” he grunted, “fuck me, Marcin.”

Jankos winced slightly at the resistance of Luka’s taut body. He groaned as he slowly rocked his hips, forcing himself deeper and deeper inside. Perkz looked so beautiful from behind, vulnerable, but undeniably strong as the toned muscles of his back moved beneath his skin. Marcin was more than willing to oblige his teammate’s request. He gripped the brunette’s hips and steadily began to drive their bodies together, the sudden movements overwhelming the both of them. Luka buried his face in the blanket, gripping the sheets with his free hand and jerking himself off with the other. The combination of pain and pleasure was the only thing his brain could register, and it was the escape he needed right now. 

“Oh, god. Luka,” Jankos moaned.

And even though he blamed it on the hormones, or maybe the adrenaline rush, in that instant, he actually found the jungler’s voice to be beautiful, rather than irritating. 

“Marcin,” he whimpered back, voice shaky as the man pounded into him.

Jankos stopped for a moment, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on the back of Perkz’s neck, trailing his delicate lips along his shoulder. Luka looked back at him, smiling softly at the tender moment of reprieve before the Pole started moving again. The promise of climax too unignorable for either of them to bear. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” Luka hissed, rubbing himself faster.

“Good,” Jankos let out a breathy laugh, “cause I won’t last much longer.”

“Please- harder,” he begged, glancing back at his lover with pleading eyes.

Their hips collided with audible slaps of skin against skin, and Jankos bit his lip to keep himself from groaning too loud. With every impact, the slight bounce of Perkz’s perfectly toned ass sent the blonde closer and closer to the edge. 

Luka cried in pleasure, his body seizing up in ecstasy as he fought the powerful waves of orgasm that shook him, Jankos still driving into him, sending wild surges of bliss from the base of his spine to every cell in his body. His satisfied mewls alone were enough to finish off the jungler, his vision going white for a few seconds while before he slowly descended back to earth, collapsing on the bed next to his teammate, exhausted from the physical exertion. 

Sticky with sweat and bodily fluids, neither of them could care less. Luka rolled over to face Marcin, taking his hand in his own, their faces inches apart. He kissed the back of his hand softly and stared into his eyes. 

“I think I’m happy to take this as a prize instead,” he smiled, “ there’s always next year for Worlds.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
